Westpoint Tales

by Kiwi

Lindsay & Tony Bloody Southon - Pt 9

Next day, sadly, they had to go back to school.

No. That was stupid thinking, he wasn't sad, he was glad. Gladly back to school. Why wouldn't he be? It might not be cool, but Lindsay liked school. Why wouldn't he be? He was good at it - he was the best! Better than. . .than. . . better than anyone, that's who. Besides, he'd get to see. . . everyone he hadn't seen lately, that's who.

He didn't take his bike, he walked with Alvin and Janie. Halfway there, a car pulled up and Connie and Angel rolled out and walked with them. Life was good.

They arrived at the school at ten to nine, the same time as the bus from Isherwood arrived. That was not planned - it was not. It just turned out that way. Lindsay stood and watched the kids coming out of the bus. He wasn't looking for anyone, he just happened to be facing that way.

Jan Banks, Linda Herbert, Stephen Banks, and others, all came out of the doorway. Dave Monopoly was one of the last off, he was carrying two schoolbags, (?), but there was no sign of Him. His brothers, Peter and Graeme were there, but Tony Southon was not.

'He's not coming to school today? Maybe he's sick? Good job too. Shut up, Reilly, that's not nice. Nor is he anyway, he's never nice to me. At least if he's not here, he won't be bugging me today. I won't miss him. Hope he's not sick really.'

Then he saw him. Tony Bloody Southon arrived, all grins and waves, as he pulled up and collected his school bag from Dave Monopoly. He was riding a bike! A brand-new and shiny, road-racing bicycle.

What did he think he was doing? Had he biked all the way into town? He must have, he wasn't on the bus. So now he thought that he was going to beat Lindsay at biking too, did he? The competitive arse. (Hey, Mike A.)

'Screw you, Southon. You won't beat me. I'm better than you and my bike's better that that hunk of junk. Biking's the one thing that I'm good at and you're not going to beat me there.'

He was really pissed now. Bike racing was going to be his sport. Southon had never shown any interest in it before. Why couldn't he be happy to be the best at everything else? Screw him anyway. He turned his back on him and walked away.

School life went on, he didn't talk to Southon. They hardly ever talked, unless it was to exchange insults. Most kids insulted each other all the time, but they were only joking. Lindsay and Tony Bloody Southon were not - they meant it. Didn't they? Yes, of course they did. He hated Tony Bloody Southon and Southon hated him. Anyway, they each had their own circle of friends, and mostly they just ignored each other, sort of.

Southon's new bike was a big hit as he showed it off to friends and admirers at lunchtime, and again after school, before biking home to Isherwood. Lindsay didn't care, he just stayed away and ignored him. He knew that his own super-cool bike was way better than that thing, but he wasn't going to bring it to school now. People would just think that he was trying to compete, and he was not.

Good old Leigh was back in his "faithful side-kick" mode, and he didn't have anything to do with Southon or his bike either. "Yours is way better than that, Lindsay. You should bring it to school tomorrow and show him up. Better yet, challenge him to a race, make him look really stupid."

"Thanks, Leigh, but I'm not doing that. I don't want anything to do with Southon or his stupid bike."

"Well you should. Bike racing's the one sport where you can beat him."

:"No. I know it, you know it. I don't care what anyone else thinks." (But he did, kind of.)

On Tuesday, Southon cycled in to school again. Then on Wednesday he didn't, he rode in on the bus. Not that anyone was noticing. Who cared how Tony Bloody Southon came to school anyway? Not Lindsay.

He decided that he was going to go back out to Leigh's place. He'd go along with whatever Leigh wanted to do. Maybe they could get Harry in the caravan and try that too, why not? Harry liked getting fucked, why shouldn't Lindsay try it, at least once. It'd be fun.

He talked to Leigh about it on Wednesday, and he thought that it was a great idea.

"Why don't you stay the night? Stay two nights - Friday and Saturday. We'll have Harry walking like a bandy-legged cowboy by Sunday. He'll love it. So will you, we all will, it'll be ace."

Connie thought that it was a good idea too. "You go for it, Lindsay my love." She even offered to get him some condoms. She wasn't buying them, but Angel had plenty, she'd nick some of his. He wouldn't mind, he was only dating his right hand at the moment.

On Thursday, Leigh had some bad news for him. He couldn't come out to stay, not this weekend. The Stevens family was going away on Friday and they wouldn't be back until Sunday night. Leigh and Harry would much rather have stayed at home, but they couldn't. Their parents were insisting that they come with them. They had to go and see their grandfather - the old boy had had a heart attack. He was okay now, but you never knew, he might not last much longer and he was loaded. He was really well-off, so it was important to keep in his good books, (and his will). Lindsay understood didn't he? Maybe they could do it next weekend, as long as he hadn't died in the meantime. Harry was disappointed too, but Leigh would take care of him, if he knew what he meant. "Nudge, nudge. Wink, wink."

Lindsay was disappointed, but there'd always be another weekend. He did want to try stuff out, he wanted to try everything, but he knew that the Stevens brothers would never be any more than friends - fucking friends.

'Ah well. One day my prince will come. Or, one day my prince will cum - oh yeah.'

Leigh had some compensation for him. Thursday afternoon, the whole school had to walk across town to the St.John's theatre to sit through a boring symphony orchestra concert. Luckily, it was raining that day, so they all had to take their jackets and coats, which, spread across their laps, made for excellent cover in the darkened theatre.

Their school pants were soon unfastened and spread wide open under the jackets, and they spent the entire show feeling each other up and masturbating. Lindsay came into his handkerchief, twice. As did his sex-friend. He was fairly certain that they weren't the only ones there doing it too.

Southon was sitting next to Dave Monopoly, a couple of rows ahead of them. But, although he watched them closely, they didn't seem to be doing anything. Idiots.

Friday started out fine, the sun was shining again, but it turned out to be a bad day. The worst day of his life. He walked to school with Alvin and Janie, as usual. When was he going to get a girlfriend of his own anyway? ('Hah, like that's going to happen')

The bus arrived from Isherwood and Southon wasn't on it again. Who cared how he came to school anyway? (Dave Monopoly had two schoolbags.)

They went in for their first class and Southon wasn't there either, his seat was empty. So he was late? ('Hah! Hope he gets in trouble. Dork should be on the bus anyway.')

But he wasn't there for the second class either, or the third. Was he having a day off? Lindsay had never known Southon to be absent before, not even once. Why was Monopoly carrying two school bags? Not that he was going to ask him, but he wondered.

By lunchtime the news was all over the school, bad news. Tony Southon had been hit by a car and he was in the hospital. Lindsay didn't care, did he? Well, yes he did actually. He wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even Tony Bloody Southon. Especially not Tony Bloody Southon. How was he?

There were a dozen different stories flying around. Some had it that he was really bad, dying even. Others said that he was barely scratched and that he was just being a big drama queen and lapping up all the attention.

The one thing that everyone agreed on was that he was in the hospital. He'd been biking in to school again, and some stupid tourist had come around the corner on the wrong side of the road, (that happened a lot on the Gorge Road where the scenery was so distracting for tourists), and he'd been knocked flying. His parents were both there, in the hospital, and his brothers had gone over there too.

Damn! How was he really? And how was his shiny new bike? What rotten luck.

Lindsay had a major row with Leigh; he was just being a jerk. Leigh thought that it was a great joke that Southon had been knocked down. It'd do him bloody good. Lindsay lost the plot and he lost a friend too. Fuck Leigh. How would he like it if that happened to him? Or to Lindsay? Southon wasn't stupid but there were a lot of idiots out there. Fucking, bloody, sightseeing tourists. They shouldn't be allowed on the road.

Fuck Lindsay too! What did he care what happened to Southon? He was no friend of his.

No? And neither was Leigh either, he didn't want to know him. That was fine by Leigh. He could go and screw his own bloody brother, Leigh was keeping his for himself. Like anyone cared.

Connie caught up to him as they were going back in after lunch.

"Aren't you going over to the hospital, Lindsay?"

"No. Why should I? I don't care what happens to Tony Southon."

"Don't talk crap, Lindsay my Love. I can read you like a book, remember. Of course you care what happens to Tony Southon. They say he might die you know."

"Well that would . . . that'd be wrong. But why do you think that I care?"

"Because you do. You're in love with the boy. You have been ever since I've known you. Go and see him, Lindsay, you won't be happy until you do."

"I'm not going anywhere, Connie. You’re wrong. I don't love Tony Southon, I hate him and he hates me too."

"So you say. But that's not really how you feel and neither does he either. You know why Tony Southon made a friend of Angel? I'll tell you why. Because Angel looks a lot like Lindsay Reilly, and that's a fact."

"Rubbish. What makes you think that?"

"Because that's what Angel told me. That's why they had a bust-up. Angel is not Lindsay Reilly, he's happy being Angelo Crestani. Go and see him, Lindsay my Love."

Connie walked away to her class, leaving Lindsay standing with his mouth hanging open. That wouldn't be right, would it? No - Connie was full of it. Wasn't she?

He went in for his first class of the afternoon and lasted all of ten minutes before he scooped up his books, excused himself and left the room. He walked out of the school and straight over to the hospital - it was only just across the road.

He walked in and stood looking at Southon's family - his parents and his brothers, who were all sitting out in the corridor. Someone said his name, and Mrs.Southon, who he had never seen before, got up and came over to him.

"Hello Lindsay," she smiled. "Have you come to see Tony?"

He just nodded silently, he was too choked up to talk. His eyes were full of tears now.

"He's in a mess and he's going to hurt, but it's not as bad as it looks. He'll survive. It's all just superficial injuries really, apart from the broken arm. He's sleeping at the moment, but you can pop in and have a look at him. He's in Room 5. Don't be too long now."

"Umm. Thanks, Mrs.Southon. Thanks a lot. I won't be long."

He walked into the ward and stood looking down at the bruised and battered boy on the bed. His right arm, in a fibre-glass cast, lay on top of the blankets and his poor face was in a mess. His right eye was swollen and bruised and there was skin off everywhere. Damn! And it was such a nice face too. Well it was.

Lindsay stood at the foot of the bed, books still in his arms, and tears streamed down his face as he watched the sleeper.

One quiet sob was all it took to wake him up. It was a minute before he realised that the left eye was open and looking at him.

"Water," he croaked. "Get me some water, wouldya."

"Water? Yes, of course."

He filled the glass from the nightstand next to the bed and carefully held it to the bloodied lips. Tony raised his head and took a small drink, then sank back to the pillows.

"Thanks,' he said. “What are you doing here, Reilly? Come to gloat have you? I guess you won this one, my biking days are over."

"No I haven't. I'm not here to gloat, I just wanted to see how you are. I haven't won anything, it could just have easily have been me. Your biking days are not over, you'll get better."

"Yeah. I probably will, but my bike won't. It's stuffed - they didn't even bother picking it up. All my savings gone in one bang. Oh, Damn! It hurts."

"I'll get the doctor, or a nurse. I'll get someone. Hold on Tony."

He turned to the door but stopped when Southon called him. "Reilly . . Lindsay?"

"Yeah?''

"Thanks."

"No probs. Get better, Tony, get better soon. You're the only competition I've got in school. Just wait, I'll get someone."

He rushed out to the corridor and Mrs. Southon looked up. "Everything all right?"

"No. No it's not all right. He's awake and he's hurting. He needs someone now. Where's the bloody doctor?"

"Well I don't know, Lovey. Did you use the call-button by his bed?"

"No, I didn't think of that. Sorry."

"No problems, Lindsay. I'll get it."

She disappeared into the ward, the door swinging shut behind her. Lindsay stood waiting and watching as a doctor and a nurse came hurrying along and went in there too. He sank down onto a seat opposite Peter, Graeme, and Mr. Southon, and sat looking at the floor between them.

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